The King is Dead
by SevLovesLily
Summary: Stems directly from Diamond of the Day part 2: Merlin's thoughts while Arthur is dying and after he dies. Canon is slightly tweaked to what should have happened, though it doesn't change anything else so it's not really an AU. And for the rest of it, there's no proof it never happened. It's more or less the true ending to the great love story between Merlin and Arthur.


**It's Day 5 and the feels still aren't gone after the finale. As said in the summary, a small bit of what actually happened in the episode is tweaked. So this is halfway a "What if" story and also an extension of canon. You'll see what I mean when you read it.**

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Merlin can't remain still. His hands, even as they caress Arthur's face, are shaking like mad, his stomach heaving uncontrollably, and were he standing, his legs would have given out already. Beating with the rhythm of a thousand lost souls, his heart seems to want to break out of his chest, to be rid of the pain. And Merlin feels it everywhere else, too. Every part of him is screaming to just let go, to not have to remain in this world and suffer.

But he will do it: He will put up with it all and suffer to the end of time so long as he can be by Arthur's side. He's not going to leave him while he dies—he's going to give him his last wish, at the very least. _"Just… hold me, please."_

It sounds so casual. Merlin's heart breaks with the almost _normal_ tone Arthur has—the lack of desperation kills him. Arthur's not afraid of dying at all, is he? No, it's only Merlin who's truly suffering right now. Arthur made his request and he's getting it, so he's happy.

If that is what he truly wants, Merlin will give it to him. He would give anything to him. And truly, he wants to stay with him as long as possible, despite the pain it's bringing him. Although he isn't even sure if it would have been more painful if he weren't present for this—having to see the strength gradually leave Arthur's face and just _feel_ the weakness as he held him and as Arthur's hand could only brush against him…. That's more painful than he could have ever imagined.

There's a few moments of confusion before he realizes that Arthur is trying to hold his hand. _Desperately_. Somehow, that simple fact takes a bit of the pain away, brings him some comfort. Strange, how he would feel better to know that Arthur fears death at least a little bit. Because if he doesn't, the desperation to take Merlin's hand wouldn't have been there.

Or at least he's afraid to die alone and without Merlin's hand in his. Either way, the thought breaks Merlin's heart a thousand times over as he fumbles to slip his fingers into Arthur's—

And then once more when Arthur's hand come up to stroke his hair.

"Merlin… I want to say something I've never told you before," he tells him, sounding like it's taking a lot of strength to do so. As much as Merlin doesn't want him to waste his strength, though, he's hopeful for what he's about to hear.

"…Thank you."

Arthur's smile hurts more than anything. _Stop being so content to die,_ Merlin thinks, wanting to cry more than he already is.

He remembers, though—this certainly isn't the first time Arthur has thanked him. This isn't even really the first time that Arthur has thanked him with such sincerity. He supposes it might have made sense if Arthur means he's never thanked him for everything he's ever done for him, but… no. Merlin knows what that really means—he can feel it. So he accepts that for what it truly means and conveys his reply through the look in his eyes.

It's merely a few seconds later before Arthur's expression begins to slacken, and Merlin is really panicking. Arthur's hand has fallen to his chest again, and Merlin hold it tightly in his own as he bends over the man's face and tries to get him to stay awake, as though it's that simple.

"No… don't leave, don't leave me…," he mutters over and over again, feeling his heart sink lower and lower. This is it, isn't it. Arthur is about to die and he can do nothing about it.

But Arthur's heartbeat is still there; he isn't completely gone. Several seconds after his eyes close seemingly for good, they crack open again, and though it's just barely, Merlin swears he's trying to look at him.

Some of his hope restored, he holds Arthur's face close to his and tries his best to speak through his tears. "Stay with me," he whispers desperately, and there's a distinct, though weak smile on Arthur's face.

The once and future King lets out a short breath that really could just be a breath, but it sounds an awful lot like "_Merlin_," and he's not going to take that for granted. The widening of his eyes is very clearly a _Yes?_ and Arthur responds with another breath, this one sounding choked.

He's obviously trying to say something, but he can't get it out in his lack of strength. All Merlin makes out, at first, is a "K—k—k…." But then it sounds, for a split second, as though he's saying "_Kiss_." And Merlin knows at once that that's what it is because he _knows_ Arthur, and he understands this last request. He's not going to wait around for it to become clearer, anyway.

So he doesn't hesitate to lean just an inch or so more downward and brush his lips over Arthur's. Except though he means to just brush them, he ends up kissing him with all he's got—which really isn't that much, since he's so shaky he can barely force his lips forward. But he somehow knows for sure, now that, Arthur's happy for this. Merlin can actually _feel_ how happy Arthur is, in his last moments.

He realizes how horrible it is that it's taken them this long to do this merely a moment before he starts to feel Arthur's face slacken completely, and the King is dying right underneath his lips.

He knows precisely when there is no more life left in Arthur's body, but he doesn't stop kissing him until several seconds afterward. And then he screams because he's in agony and doesn't know what to do.

Even after he lays Arthur's body to rest and sends him off to peace on that boat, he doesn't stop screaming on the inside.

* * *

It's been hours since news of Arthur's death has reached the castle and since Merlin's returned to it. He hasn't told anyone precisely what happened, but everyone knows that the King has been given a proper funeral and they all think Merlin was the best person to do it, so no one questions him or even seems the slightest bit sad that they weren't there.

"Good," they all say with a finality when they're told that Merlin sent Arthur off, looking down and nodding their heads as though they're relieved.

No one tries to talk to Merlin about Arthur's death because they don't need to ask to know how he feels—not even Gaius. None of them truly know _exactly_ how he feels, though. They can't begin to fathom what he's feeling. Merlin thinks they all know that bit, too.

It's always been obvious that the King and his manservant were friends, no matter how Arthur treated him and how strange it was, considering their separate social standings. But everyone is aware of how much they've needed each other and so, even though it's unspoken, everyone knows how close they were. And still are.

No one questions Merlin when he goes to Arthur's bedroom and tidies up his things like he's still his servant. No one follows him there and no one else comes in.

Now that Arthur's gone, Merlin's a better servant than he ever was. He's cleaning properly and thoroughly, unlike he ever really did before—but before, he wasn't really Arthur's servant. He was much more his friend.

But there's no one to tell him to hurry up and no one to take the piss out of him and no one to wear the belt he's adding more holes to. Merlin keeps thinking that Arthur's going to come in through the door and head behind his changing wall and then throw his tunic in his face and demand he wash it, but he doesn't.

There's no one to demand an explanation when he opens up Arthur's wardrobe and runs his hand over all the shirts that are hanging there, and so Merlin doesn't have to say that he's checking for holes and lie that they have a moth problem. His hand goes softly over the fabric as though it's precious, like it's made of glass and could break at any second. It's all too precious to him because it belonged to Arthur.

After what feels like hours of him fighting with himself, Merlin's bravery allows him to take a shirt with a slightly trembling hand and just feel it in his hand. It's one of the last bits of Arthur that he's got, and he doesn't want to let go now. Slowly, he brings it up to his face and presses his nose into the shirt, deeply inhaling Arthur's scent. It's almost like he's breathing in the man's essence, and it's healing his heart, just a bit.

"You loved him, didn't you?"

The sudden voice in the room startles Merlin, but he doesn't show it. All that jerks is his heart, and he merely lowers the shirt and doesn't look around at Gwen when he responds.

"Of course I did; he's my friend," he says calmly, though wishing that she would leave. But he couldn't tell the Queen of Camelot to leave her own bedroom.

"No," Gwen says softly, and it's obvious what she's about to say. Merlin's shoulders tighten as he hears her take a step forward. "I mean, you loved him… more deeply. Like—"

"Like the way a man loves a woman?" he says dryly and slowly, hardly a questioning tone to his voice. He knows what she meant, and he knows it's otherwise hard to explain this to people. Especially without them automatically thinking you disgusting and wanting to report you for sinning. He wonders what Gwen thinks of him for this.

"…So you did love him," she concludes, not a hint of disgust in her voice, for which Merlin feels a bit of relief for. But it's still hard for him to feel much at all.

They're both silent and still for a while until Merlin finally looks over at Gwen, his hand tightening around Arthur's shirt, and he speaks lowly and with a voice that makes him sound broken.

"I love him more than you or anyone else ever could, and I'll never stop. But—the ten years I've worked for him… neither of us said anything. Because when a woman loves a man, she is perfectly allowed to be open about it and want to hug him and kiss him. But when a man loves another man…." He paused there, shaking his head slightly and hating the fact that this was true. "He must hide it until it's his last chance or it's too late. Do you have any idea what that's like?"

Gwen just stares at him in silence with what looks like pity for the longest time, until she finally shakes her head and mouths _"No."_ She appears to be starting to cry, and it occurs to Merlin that that might have been harsh to say to a widow, but he really can't bring himself to care at the moment.

"…He loved you too, Merlin," she finally says, inhaling deeply and nodding her tears back. It almost seems like she's crying for _him_ and not herself. "I know it. He never told me directly, but the way he always spoke of you…. Later on I started to get the feeling that he only fooled himself into loving me because he didn't understand his love for you. And I think you know that, too."

He doesn't register that she's walking towards the door until it shuts, and it's not until then that he realizes that he, too, is crying.

Glancing at the shirt in his hand, he resolves to put it neatly back in the wardrobe. But he can't bring himself to leave the room, and even later that evening when Gwen finds him asleep on Arthur's bed, she doesn't move him and doesn't stay in there.

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**I'm truly sorry for writing this, but I had to. I kind of just needed a way to put all my Merthur headcanons into one thing, and it ended up being this heartbreaking thing.**

**As always, though, reviews are highly appreciated.**


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